


The Prized Prince

by ApothicArt



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abused Keith (Voltron), Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Angst, Balmeran Hunk (Voltron), F/M, Fighting for their lives, Flashbacks, Galra Keith (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kind of a medieval Hunger Games feel, Kuro (Voltron) - Freeform, M/M, Olkari Pidge (Voltron), Past Child Abuse, Prince Keith (Voltron), Rape Recovery, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Some Humor, lots of flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9691760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApothicArt/pseuds/ApothicArt
Summary: Keith is the second son of Zarkon and Prince of the most powerful Empire in the universe. Yet his whole life he has been used by his family for their own selfish ambitions. To gain more power within the Empire, his father, Zarkon, maneuvers to use Prince Keith again. He plans to marry him to whomever completes these seven challenges on intergalactic television. Now Keith has to fight to win his own hand in marriage, not just for his freedom, but for the freedom of everyone he cares about.





	1. Confronting the Emperor

"Prince Keith? Prince Keith! You are being called on by Emperor Zarkon, My Lord!"

Keith awoke to a loud voice calling him from the other side of his bedroom door. Through a haze of sleep, he recognized it as Shaln's, the Emperor family's head butler. This was one of the many reasons Keith kept it locked at all times. If he didn't, the help would walk right into his room and clean or even dress him for the day without even waking him. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

He moaned angrily and pulled the warm covers over his head, trying to block out the noise. He had stayed up late last night training. It seemed like the only thing of late that took his mind off of things. Everything else made him feel like banging his head against the wall, especially Zarkon's recent order that Keith sit in on every one of his diplomatic meetings.

The loud shouts and banging stopped and Keith felt his consciousness fall back into the darkness of sleep…

And then Shaln's calling started up again.

Keith hated him, even though he knew he was only doing his job. Well, he didn't have to do it so damn well.

Keith threw the covers off, and stomped over to his bedroom door as loudly as he could manage with his small frame. He slammed his fist against the button beside the door that opened it, then glared at the tall, studiously dressed Galra on the other side.

His face was stupidly shocked. His eyes idiotically wide. Keith seethed. "Shaln. What did I tell you about waking me?" Keith snarled.

Although the man was much taller, he took a noticeable step backwards and lifted his hands in a placating manner. "Y-you said to… n-never… wake you… M-my Lord."

"That's right, Shaln. What else?"

"… T-to… g-get the human Shiro… i-if it was an emergency…"

"And where is he?" Keith asked warningly.

"I, uh…" The man looked ready to pee his pressed pants and Keith couldn't help but feel pleased with himself. It made his morning a little better.

"I'm right here," said a warm voice from down the corridor. The servant in front of him looked visibly relieved at the sound.

Keith frowned a little petulantly. He was enjoying seeing the man squirm. "Shiro," Keith said as the human came closer.

"Good afternoon, My Lord," Shiro said as he bowed deeply, the long white part of his hair billowing like a flag. When he arose, he smiled, clearly amused. "I see you've been toying with him instead of letting him tell you the news he was sent with, My Lord."

"Hmph…" Keith crossed his arms, not wanting to concede his point. Even though he knew he was right.

Shiro just laughed. He was the only one, Galra or otherwise, that treated Keith this way. Like… well, like a brother, even though they were of two different species. Even Keith's half-brother, Lotor, treated him like some sort of... toy.

"Well," Shiro continued, bowing in front of Keith. "Second Son of the Galra Empire, Lord of the Sword, Prince Keith of Zarkon," Shiro announced proudly, "you are hereby called to stand before Zarkon and all of the Empire in the Tournament of Marriage!"

"WHAT?" Keith shouted.

Keith shoved Shaln out of the way, storming down the royal corridors to make his way to Zarkon in the throne room. Shiro rushed after him.

"Prince Keith, wait!" Shiro called. "You can't just rush in like that! They're having a-"

Keith stopped listening to him. He could go wherever the hell he pleased. He was Prince, for Zarkon's sake!

He was going to march right up to Zarkon and tell him where he could shove his marriage. No way was Keith going to be used as a diplomatic pawn! Get married to some stranger who happened to win some tournament? Over his dead bloody corpse!

The gigantic doors to the throne room loomed above him, the Empire's Seal wrought into the door and painted bright red. Keith commanded the guards to open them with a single word. They sounded shocked to see him, but did as he commanded, pulling open the massive doors simultaneously to admit him into the throne room.

The throne room was a vast piece of art and was grand to behold. It was fashioned so that wherever you looked, you still felt the power and glory of the massive raised throne at the far end of the room. The roof slanted so that the ornate glass windows let in beams of natural light, shining onto the throne in shades of red, yellow and purple. Every one of the tens of thousands of chairs were turned strategically to have a perfect view of Zarkon's grandeur. All of these chairs were filled with diplomats, at least one from every planet that the Empire occupied, tens of thousands of them, some only there through hologram. Intergalactic camera's hummed around Zarkon's throne, showing off every angle.

It was truly the ultimate declaration of pride and vanity. Keith hated it.

Every occupant turned to look at Keith when he entered, the loud banging of the doors making him known immediately. They began mumbling and whispering to one another, a low buzzing reverberating throughout the cavernous room.

Zarkon sat on his gigantic throne, looming over them all, while Keith's half-brother, Prince Lotor, lounged on a smaller throne on his right side. There was an even smaller empty throne on Zarkon's left for Keith. As Keith stomped to the front, he caught his half-brother's yellow eyes watching him with amusement, hiding a mischievous smile behind one hand. He probably knew what Keith was going to say. Well, Keith didn't care. He wasn't going to let them do this to him.

Zarkon was still addressing everyone, even those not in the room, intergalactic camera's broadcasting his words to everyone in the entire empire. He was obviously ignoring Keith's unceremonious entrance. Well, Keith didn't care who he was talking to nor what he was saying. Keith was a thunderhead and could not be stopped.

Keith marched right in front of Zarkon's throne, planted himself firmly, pointed at his so-called father, and yelled at the top of his lungs, "I will NOT be the prize in your tournament!"

The entire room was silent, Keith's words echoing around the cavernous room.

Shiro had followed him all the way and was now kneeling behind Keith, mumbling quietly. "I told you to wait, why do you never listen?"

Keith stared Zarkon straight in his glowing purple eyes, panting from having nearly run there, waiting for his response.

Silence.

Lotor cleared his throat ever so slightly and Keith glanced at him. He mouthed overdramatically, "Look," pointing to his eyes, and "Down," pointing towards the floor.

Keith was perplexed. Was it some sort of trick? But he did as his half-brother suggested, glancing down to the purple carpeted floor under his feet.

He noticed first that he wasn't wearing any shoes. Then he realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt. Or pants. He was standing in front of Zarkon and all of the Empire in nothing but his underwear.

Keith felt heat flood his face as he tried to figure out what to say. All that ended up coming out of his mouth was a compilation of "Um, uh, er, I-uh, well…" and maybe even a few expletives.

Shiro was the one that saved him in the end.

"Please, Emperor Zarkon, Overlord of Day and Night, Ruler of Worlds, and All Powerful Majesty," he moved to kneel deeply in front of Keith to Zarkon. "Please excuse My Lord, Prince Keith. Someone, uh… stole his clothes, Your Majesty." And then he arose, his face cast down in a subdued manner as he took three steps back, then grabbed Keith's arm and dragged him out the side door.

Author's Note: Well, I hoped you liked reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! If at this moment you find yourself thinking, "Well, that was lovely and funny and sweet! I wish to read more chapters that are lovely and funny and sweet!" Please, do not read the next chapter. I wanted to explore some serious subjects that provoke true emotions in my readers and it is not very lovely and funny and sweet. Please send me your thoughts if you so wish. Thank you.


	2. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Keith has made a huge mistake. Without thinking, he rushed into Zarkon's throne room and embarrassed himself in front of the entire Empire. Zarkon takes this as a personal affront to his image and makes sure that his son is punished as he sees fit.

"What were you THINKING?"

Zarkon was standing with his fists clenched at his sides in the smaller audience chamber adjacent to the throne room. It was made specifically for private discussions and negotiations between Zarkon and some of the highly ranked diplomats. It was completely sound proof through a mix of druid magic and high level technology to prevent spies from eavesdropping.

But right now, it was being used so that no one could hear the yelling.

"Father-" Keith started to say.

"Don't even try to make excuses! You not only shame yourself, you shame ME, your brother, and the entire Empire! You WILL obey me and go through with this marriage arrangement. You will NOT jeopardize it in ANY way!" Zarkon's voice was booming, each word a blow to Keith's ears. He could yell as loud as he wanted in here and no one could hear him.

Zarkon stepped close to Keith, only inches away. He loomed over him with all of his height and bulk. His eyes became slits and burned with fury. "Do you understand me," Zarkon said warningly. It wasn't a question, but a command.

Keith's heart beat loud in his chest, sweat streaking down his neck and temples. His mouth was suddenly dry and his lungs refused to breathe. He felt suddenly claustrophobic, the room too small, his clothes too restrictive. He felt panic rise. He couldn't escape. He was going to die here!

There was no logical explanation to what Keith felt. He was Zarkon's son. He took care of Keith and gave him practically anything he wanted. Yet at times like this, he felt that at any moment Zarkon would suddenly reach out his hand and kill him in a single movement.

Zarkon terrified him.

Keith swallowed hard and tried to inhale enough oxygen to speak. "Yes, Father," he wheezed.

Zarkon nodded slowly and started to turn away.

Then raised his hand and struck Keith across the face.

Keith hit the ground hard on his side. He curled his legs, preparing himself to be kicked hard in the stomach like usual. But when he looked up, Zarkon's back was turned in dismissal.

"Leave," he commanded with a wave of his hand.

Somehow, that hurt more.

Keith got up quickly and turned to obey. His face was ablaze with pain and he grasped it with one gloved hand. He put his other hand to the button on the wall.

"And Keith," Zarkon called. The sudden words made Keith freeze, his hand over the button, as he held his breath. "Make sure you keep that… human… on a short leash."

Keith left quickly without saying anything. He knew what Zarkon meant.

No one was supposed to address Zarkon unbidden, especially so-called "arena rats" like Shiro. Zarkon was telling him that if it happened again, Shiro would be… returned… to the druids. A fate worse than death.

Zarkon was telling him that he had another way to hurt Keith than just beating him if he disobeyed.

Still holding his face, Keith put his back against the corridor wall and clutched at the too tight ceremony jacket over his chest, trying to catch his breath. Being in the same room as Zarkon, even for only a couple of minutes, made Keith feel like he had been in intensive battle all day. He didn't even realize that his whole body had been that tense until it was gone.

"That bad, huh?" someone said to Keith's right.

He didn't know how long Shiro had been standing there, maybe the whole time, waiting for him. He smiled at Keith sadly, offering him a handkerchief for his cheek.

Anger flared inside of Keith. Zarkon made him feel so… so helpless, so weak. He hated him. And he hated himself for feeling that way. And he hated anyone who saw him like this. He felt like punching something until it bled or he did.

Keith swatted the handkerchief out of Shiro's hand, making it flutter to the floor. "I don't need your pity, rat!" Keith snapped, turning his back on him. He knew that the derogatory slur hurt, reminding Shiro of his captivity, but a flood of anger drowned the spark of guilt he felt. 

Talking brought a sharp pain from his face and Keith looked at his gloved hand hesitantly. He saw that the white silk cloth was soaked in blood. Zarkon must have extended his fingertips at the last moment, leaving gashes across his face from his pointed claws. It was Zarkon's own way of shaming him. Everyone would be able to see the wounds on his face for days to come, the doctors refusing to heal him under Zarkon's orders. If he wanted, he could even tell them to leave the scars, a permanent mark of shame on Keith's face.

He knew because this had happened countless times before.

"Keith, I-" Shiro started behind him.

Two servants passed them, staring at Keith and whispering. They knew that he had been hit by his father and he lowered his eyes in humiliation.

As soon as they passed, Keith started running and didn't stop until he was back to his bed chambers. He was just so angry… at Zarkon, at Shiro, at the butler, at his brother... at himself.

He screamed and ripped the sword insignia marking him as the second son of Zarkon from his coat, throwing it across the room. He grabbed his desk light and smashed it on the floor, the crystal shattering into hundreds of pieces. He tore down the luxurious tapestries from the walls, ripping them to shreds. He picked up the chair in the corner and threw it at the wall, breaking it. He screamed and screamed.

He felt like such a child. First, he makes a huge, idiotic, embarrassing mistake. Then he's punished by his father. Then he throws a huge tantrum… And finally sobs into his pillow in self-pity.

He was pathetic.

He remembered that when he was a child, only ten cycles old, he had run away. He stole an escape pod and gone to some isolated, desert planet where he was sure Zarkon wouldn't find him. He wanted to live on his own and maybe go find his mother out there somewhere.

He spent two hours trying to build a shelter for himself before fifty Galra ships appeared in the sky above him and hauled him, kicking and screaming, back to Zarkon.

Zarkon was furious with him and promised that if he ever did it again, he'd break both of his legs.

"This time, I'll only break one," Zarkon had said, then brought his heavy boot down on Keith's right leg until the bone cracked. The memory of it still made Keith's gut wrench in a sickening wave. He rubbed his leg as a phantom ache washed over it as the memory.

Keith had limped around in pain for two weeks, Zarkon forcing him to continue his athletics training and studies, before Zarkon ordered them to set it and let it heal properly. Without anesthetic.

It had been agony.

Keith heard the door to his chambers open. He had forgotten to lock it.

"GET OUT!" Keith yelled and threw the closest thing he could grab at the intruder. It was a nearby pillow he'd been bleeding on.

"Keith," a warm, gentle voice said. Keith felt the bed rock as they sat down on the side of the bed.

"Go away, Shiro," Keith yelled at him. "A Prince of Zarkon should never rely on a dirty arena rat like you!"

"Keith…"

Keith felt a warm hand on his shoulder and he jerked away from it. He wanted to hate Shiro… If he did, it would be so much easier. He could be alone and harden his heart, letting no one love him and loving no one... and no one could hurt him. Not even Zarkon. But he just couldn't make himself hate Shiro.

"Let me bandage that for you," Shiro said quietly.

It was the first thing Keith had ever said to Shiro, only a year ago when he was named Champion in the arena. Keith had trained with all of the best fighting instructors, learning everything there was to know. But it still wasn't enough. He had snuck out to the arena, and when he saw Shiro fight… he knew that if anyone could teach him how to stand up to his father and half-brother, it was him.

Keith came to him in the ready room, excited to meet the famous fighter. Shiro sat there with a gaping wound on his arm from the previous fight and seemed exhausted.

And then Shiro attacked him.

Shiro held him by the neck ruthlessly, inches off the ground. He must have fought too many Galra to see one as anything but an enemy. Keith had been choked by Zarkon so many times that he didn't even struggle, he just gasped for air. But then, Keith caught the warrior's gaze and he saw something there that made him realize they were both the same.

Fear. The same fear Keith had for Zarkon.

"Let me…" Keith coughed, on the verge of losing consciousness, "bandage that... for you…"

Shiro must have seen the same thing Keith saw, because he dropped him immediately.

Keith bought him the same day from the arena dealer for six hundred billion GAC.

"I..." Keith's voice sounded so hoarse from all of the yelling that it took him by surprise. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Shiro, I'm-" Keith couldn't say anymore. He wanted to tell him that he was sorry, that he didn't want to yell at him and hit him.

"It's okay," Shiro said softly. "Let's just... Get that taken care of for now, okay? I know that I can't really bandage it because of that stupid rule... but I can at least clean it."

Keith nodded into the pillow and let Shiro turn him to face him. It must have looked bad because Shiro made a hissing sound. "What are you going to do?" Shiro asked as he pat the wound with a clean cloth.

"Nothing."

Shiro looked surprised. "Nothing? You?" He laughed softly. "No, if I know you at all, you're not going to do nothing."

Keith pulled away from Shiro again in anger. "Well, what do you suggest I do, Shiro? I can't fight Zarko- my father, I can't talk him out of the tournament. I can't do anything, okay?"

And if he did do anything, he would take Shiro away. They would torture him, kill him and heal him again and again and again...

"What did Emperor Zarkon say, exactly?" Shiro asked, laying down the piece of cloth and picking up the anti-bacterial, the only medicine allowed outside of the medical bay. He began slowly tapping it onto Keith's face, making it sting.

Keith flinched as it soaked into the fur on his face and into the wounds. "He said not to jeopardize the tournament in any way."

"Did he mention, perhaps," Shiro asked, a mischievous smile in his eyes, "anything about... participating?"

"No, why would he-" It took a moment before the meaning of Shiro's words fully hit Keith. "Shiro, you're a genius."


	3. Falling Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and his older sister Allura share in their homesickness and recount memories of their lost Mother and Father. They also make plans on how to counter the Galra Empire's power.

"Lance? Lance! Where are you?"

Lance didn't respond to Allura's calls over the castle's comms. He wasn't exactly hiding, but he didn't really want to be found, either. It had only been a couple months since Coran, Allura and Lance had awoken from stasis, but everyday seemed longer than the last.

All Lance wanted was to return to his home planet. He wanted to see Mother and Father, give them a big hug and never let go… He hugged his legs until they hurt. He knew that seeing them was impossible now. He felt so alone. They were all…

"Lance, there you are," Allura said, leaning down to see Lance squeezed into the little nook. It was right beside some type of cooling exhaust, so cool air was constantly running through it. It reminded Lance of the cool ocean breezes back home that had smelled like salt and flowers. It made him feel confined and safe.

"What are you doing in there?" Allura asked, surprised.

Lance turned his face away, not wanting her to see that he'd been crying. He wiped the wetness away with the sleeve of his short coat jacket. This had been the one Mother had gotten made for him. The blue matches your eyes, she had said. "Nothing. I'm fine." He'd said it too quickly, a little too cheerfully. She'd be able to tell.

"Oh, Lance… it's hard, I know… I miss them too." Allura sat down on the floor beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder kindly. "I miss Father's bad jokes and Mother's hugs. I miss our nightly talks over dessert when Father would tell us about his day and we'd tell him about ours. 'Don't leave out a single detail,' he'd say. I miss our family walks in the garden, when Father would guess which flower was which and Mother would correct him often…" she laughed fondly at the memory, tears in her eyes.

Lance ended up laughing too, tears streaming down his face all the while. "Yeah, Father was terrible with flowers. Mother always said that if he ever got lost in the forests, he would most likely make tea out of the Geopar root instead of the Gorsnak flower!" Lance and Allura laughed, knowing that the Geopar root caused hideously swollen ears, while the Gorsnak flower tasted like sweet nectar.

"I would give anything to see them one last time…" Allura whispered.

Lance felt more hot tears fall from his eyes. Remembering them like this… it made his heart feel like it was being squeezed so hard, he wanted to scream! But at the same time he felt better, the homesickness dissipating like darkness at dawn.

Yet it all seemed so hopeless. How could they ever hope to finish their father's work? The Lion's were all missing, except the black on which was sealed in the castle. And the Galra Empire had grown exponentially over the last ten thousand years… everything their Father had worked toward… was all gone. Peace in the universe seemed more than impossible...

"It's hopeless, 'Lura," Lance said, his voice thick with emotion. He turned to look at his older sister. She looks so much like Mother. "How can we possibly hope to defeat Zarkon when all we have are three ten thousand year old Alteans, one dusty old castle and an unusable Lion…?"

"Actually, Lance, that's what I came searching for you to talk about," she said with a small, playful smile.

"What is it?"

"Come," she said, taking one of his hands and drawing him out. "It's something that you have to see."

Lance let her help him out, then followed her to the viewing room. It had a semi circular sofa inlaid in the floor with a gigantic viewing screen along one wall, which could receive channels from the intergalactic stations. Coran was already there, fiddling with the remote.

"Ah, there you are, Prince and Princess," Coran said with a smile under his large orange mustache. He flipped the device into the air, then caught it again. "I was about to come look for you two myself!"

Most of the time the channels were all useless, so they didn't use it much. Even if they were speaking common, it was usually just Galra propaganda and hearsay. It must be something big if Allura wanted him to see something on it.

"Coran, please start the part I wanted Lance to see," Allura told Coran kindly.

Coran pressed a few buttons on the remote device, then Zarkon appeared on the screen. He was sitting in a massive throne in front of thousands, no, tens of thousands of different species, addressing them all.

"-by marriage," he was saying. "The victor will receive special treatment for them, their families, and their entire planet, including freedom from enslavement, if the victor chooses to do so."

There seemed to be a bit of a disturbance in the crowd as a low buzz of whispering and mumbling rose. Zarkon seemed like he didn't notice and continued speaking.

"Only unmarried royalty will be allowed to enter, one from each planet in the Empire. Each participant will be given seven challenges that they will have to complete. If they do not complete any part of the seven tasks, they will be leashed for the rest of their lives in-"

"I will NOT be the prize of your tournament!" someone yelled from the crowd.

The cameras jerked for a moment, out of focus, before settling on a nearly naked Galra boy. He was standing with feet squared and pointing at Zarkon in front of him, eyes furious. He was much shorter than the average Galra, maybe even shorter than Lance. That was peculiar. And he didn't think he'd ever seen a Galra with black hair. But Lance had to admit he was cute... for a Galra. And was that a... mullet?

There was a long moment of silence where no one said anything. Then the boy slowly looked down.

He seemed to just now realize that he wasn't wearing any clothes. His large Galra cat-like ears went down in what looked like embarrassment. He started to stammer in a very adorable way that made Lance laugh. He had to feel bad for him though, sharing in his embarrassment. But it was still really funny.

A wide shouldered man stepped in front of him, kneeling before Zarkon. He was about to say something, then the footage went out, going to an error screen.

Coran turned off the viewing screen and turned to look at Allura.

"Well, I guess that was pretty good for a laugh but…. Why exactly did you show that to me, 'Lura?" Lance asked, plopping down onto the sofa.

"Lance," Allura started. Lance knew that face. This is how she looked when she gave a lecture. "Zarkon was talking about having a marriage tournament. Which means that whomever completes his seven challenges will be wed to that… Prince Keith, I believe is his name."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait! PRINCE Keith? That Galra in his underwear?!"

"Yes, of course. Why else did you think he yelled about not being a… ahem… 'prize' for the tournament?" Lance opened his mouth to answer, but Allura continued without stopping. "Now, the only thing to do is get me to the tournament so that I can complete the seven challenges and marry this… Prince." Allura looked slightly disgusted at the prospect of marrying a Galra. Well, they had destroyed practically everything they ever cared about.

"Actually, Princess," Coran interjected. "I would be more in favor of Prince Lance being the one to go."

Allura looked slightly taken aback. "But, traditionally it would be those of the opposite gender that fight for the Prince's affections."

"You forget, Princess," Coran said vivaciously, "that the Galra do not have multiple genders like the Alteans, but one. This way, they are both… ah… male and female. So, whomever the Prince marries will be perfectly suitable for him."

"Well, I do suppose he is the stronger fighter," Allura admitted a little petulantly.

Lance felt his face heat up at the compliment and he sat up a little straighter. "Sounds great!" Lance said. "But, um… why are we talking about entering, again?"

Allura sighed slightly. "Well, we don't exactly have an army to fight the Galra with. If you were to marry the Prince then we could take down the Empire…"

"From the inside!" Lance and Allura said at the same time. They did this often, sometimes finishing each other's sentences, sometimes even guessing what the other will say before they said it.

Lance hopped to his feet and ran to his sister, enveloping her in a hug. "You're a genius, 'Lura!"

Coran joined in, picking up Allura and Lance both in a hug. When he dropped them back, he groaned loudly and grabbed his back with both hands. "Probably shouldn't have done that…"

"So, when do we leave?" Lance asked.

Allura smiled. "Tonight."


	4. Win or Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith must go to his older brother, Lotor, for help with his plan in winning his own hand in marriage. But what price will he have to pay in getting it?

"Lotor. Lotor! LOTOR!" Keith called his half-brother, getting louder and louder.

Lotor was lounging on a long sofa, his feet propped up on a low table in front of him. There were servants bringing out dishes, placing them on the table one by one. But Lotor wasn't reaching down to eat them. Instead, six people sat all around him, feeding him seductively. They were all from different species and sexes, but all of them were extremely beautiful in their own ways. They also wore next to nothing, and even that was sheer and see through. It was made even more obscene by the loud, pulsating music, the room bathed in dim red light.

It made Keith feel like he needed a shower just standing in the same room. He stared mostly at his bootlaces, only glancing up when he felt he had to. He sighed, aggravated. He knew why his half-brother was ignoring him.

"Ugh... Brother?" Keith called through clenched teeth.

"Yes? Oh, Little Brother, I didn't see you there!"

Keith sighed again. Lotor was always like this. He was handsome, tall, and charming, with long, silky white hair and a beautifully curved face, much more beautiful than Keith’s. But he was also manipulative and conniving. And he somehow thought that if Keith called him Brother instead of Lotor that Keith would be closer to him. It was the same tactic Zarkon used, and Keith would often be punished if he didn't call him Father. Keith hated that somehow it actually worked. He found himself thinking of Lotor as a brother more and more often.  
He hated everything about him.

Lotor arose from his place on the couch and strutted over to Keith, making all of the nearly naked slaves coo and whine for him to come back. He always stood a little too close to Keith, making him feel uncomfortable. He ran a fingertip across Keith's jawline where Zarkon had struck him, making Keith flinch. He leaned close and whispered into Keith's ear, "It looks like it hurts."

Keith pulled away from him, feeling his ear twitch at the feel of his breath. Something like a low growl rose inside of Keith's throat. He was sort of used to this kind of treatment from his Bro- Lotor. But it always made him feel… weird, like when he'd been caught stealing cookies as a kid. And because of that feeling, he was angry.

But Lotor just laughed. "Oh, come now, Little Brother," he said loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. "I know that seeing me..." Lotor circled Keith and put his arm across his chest from behind, keeping him in place while his other hand ran through his hair, his face pressed to his ear as he whispered, "Is what you really came here for."

Keith cringed at each touch, his heart beating faster as he fought the urge to run. He bit his lip. But he couldn’t run. He needed his help. And he couldn’t make Lotor angry, not now. Angry Lotor was even worse than this. It would be over in a moment. Just endure it. "Disgusting..." he said before he could stop himself.

Surely Lotor would get angry with him. He hated it when ‘Little Brother’ insulted him. Keith grimaced, waiting for the outburst he knew was coming…

Lotor let him go and walked away, taking his place back on the sofa, not even looking at Keith. The slaves made happy sounds and began feeding him again.

This was not what Keith had been expecting. He expected Lotor to scream at him, to kick or hit him. He even half expected him to grab him inappropriately just to humiliate him some more.

But Lotor just walked away? Keith frowned, feeling a small sense of loss… His Brother didn’t want to be near him. Had he done something wrong? There must be something wrong with Keith that Brother didn’t like him anymore! Maybe he could make it up to him by-

What was he thinking? He shook his head hard. It was some sort of head game or manipulation, some kind of magic he'd learned from Haggar. No way did he… like… being touched by Lotor. He was disgusting!

“What did you come here for, Little Brother?” Lotor asked him around a bite of some sweet looking dish.

“I, uh…” he got a sudden desire to go sit on the couch with him, feeding him food and… Stop it! “I need your help!” he exclaimed a little too loudly. What had he done to him?

Lotor smiled at him. A small, gorgeous smile. “What do you want, my dear?”

“Um…” Keith forgot for a moment. Hadn’t he come here to see his Brother? No, that couldn’t be right… “I need help for… a disguise.”

“A disguise?” Lotor sounded shocked, his beautiful yellow eyes becoming wide.

“Y-yes. I need it for… the tournament, I think. I'm going to enter… for my own hand in… marriage.” Keith really didn’t understand what the words meant, even though he was the one to speak them. He felt a little tired and wanted to lie down. “I think maybe I should… go back to my room now,” he told Brother. He really was a very good Brother and was so nice to him. He was so pretty… no, that didn’t sound right. But he knew it was.

“No, it's okay,” Lotor told him. Keith didn’t remember Lotor getting up and coming to him. And he didn’t remember sitting down. Or lying down, with Brother stroking his hair. “Don't worry, I'll help you. But now we need to talk about… payment,” Brother’s voice told him. It was the most beautiful thing Keith had ever heard, like music…

Keith felt so tired. Brother would take care of him. He was so nice and beautiful. Keith smiled, then fell into something like sleep...

When Keith woke up, he was in his bed. It was dawn. When did he leave Lotor’s room and come to bed?

The air around Keith became cold when he realized what must have happened. He felt so… vulnerable. Violated.

Keith jumped at the sound of a knock on the door. He felt a bad headache coming on and rubbed his head. “Who is it?”

“Prince Keith, is that you?”

“Come in, Shiro.” Keith swung his legs to sit on the side of his bed as Shiro entered the room in a panic. He looked like he hadn't gotten a single moment of sleep the night before.

“Keith! It is you!” Shiro came over to him and started checking to see if he was injured. “What happened? Yesterday, you said you were going to make preparations and when I came back, you weren’t here! I've been looking for you all night, where have you-“

“All night?” How long had Lotor kept him? He had gone to him just after dinner. If he was returned before dawn that was… “Oh God…” Keith suddenly felt very nauseous and rushed to the bathroom, emptying his stomach into the toilet. He didn’t remember eating any of that.

“Keith… are you alright? Did Lotor do something to you agai-“

“I'm fine, Shiro. Don't worry about it.”

“No, Keith. He can’t keep doing this to you, it's not right. We should tell your father or Haggar or someone so he'll-“

“No, Shiro!” Keith yelled. He slumped by the toilet, defeated, hiding his face in both hands. “We won’t be telling anyone. It won’t do any good…”

He remembered the first and only time he had tried to tell someone. He was only thirteen cycles old and started to realize what was going on. Now he knew that it had been going on even before that. He only noticed because it started to become more and more frequent, sometimes every night for weeks at a time. He would awaken not being able to remember going to his room the night before and found strange bruises all over his body. He had been so mortified about it that he didn’t want anyone to know. He wanted to hide it, to stuff it down so deep, no one would ever see it. But letting it continue was even worse than having to tell someone. So he gathered the nerve to tell one of his tutors what he thought was happening. What he thought Lotor, his older half-brother, was doing to him at night.

The man, Namot, was nice and Keith trusted him. He always brought Keith sweets even when he wasn’t supposed to. And most importantly, he believed Keith when he told him. Keith had been so relieved. He said that he was going to talk to Zarkon, and Keith didn’t have to worry. It was never going to happen ever again.

The next day, Keith found him sitting at his desk where he gave Keith his lessons, his eyes staring at nothing. A knife protruding from his neck.

“No, Shiro,” Keith whispered. He felt like he hadn’t gotten a single moment of sleep in years, he was just... so exhausted. Every one of his muscles hurt and he felt bruised all over. “I'm going to… take a shower. Tonight we’ll be gone for the tournament. We'll just leave. We won’t do anything else.”

Keith felt someone's hand touch his shoulder and instincts immediately took over, telling him it must be Lotor. He flinched, gasping. He looked up, terrified that he would see Lotor standing there. Instead, he saw Shiro's pained face.

“I'm sorry,” Shiro said. “I just wanted to…”

Of course it wasn't Lotor… He tried to breathe deeply, but there was a sharp stabbing pain all along his ribs. "I just… need to be alone…"

“I-“ Shiro looked like he was going to say something else, then shook his head slightly. “Let me know if you need anything… Keith.”

He nodded, but couldn’t look Shiro in the eye as he did. He wanted to ask Shiro to help him, to keep him safe from Lotor and Zarkon, to confront them or kill them, make them stop somehow… but Keith knew that that would mean a fate worse than death for his friend. He bit his lip, tasting blood.

No. These were burdens that were his to bear.

Keith let the sound of water pouring from the shower muffle the sounds of his sobbing. He didn’t know how long he stayed in there like that, but no one bothered him.

When he got out, he found an envelope with only a few things inside. First, a picture of a race Keith had never seen before. They looked Galra, with purple fur and big ears. The only differences were that they were much smaller than Galra, their hair was dark, their eyes were red instead of yellow and they wore decorative piercings on their ears. He found red contacts inside of a small case along with multiple sets of the decorative earrings. His hair was already dark and he was short enough already.

Taped to the outside was a note in flowery handwriting.

“Can’t wait for your return! We’ll celebrate together some more, whether you win, or lose!

Your Beloved Brother,

-L”

Keith shivered at the words, chewing at his lip again. He knew what he meant by ‘celebrate’… But what did he mean, whether Keith won or lost?

Maybe that even if he won, it wouldn’t change anything. Keith would still be trapped here with the same two monsters he grew up with. He would still be their…

Toy.

So then why even bother going to the tournament? Why not just let them do what they wanted, give in and stop this futile fight? It was all hopeless for him anyway. Empty.

Keith realized that this whole time, it wasn’t for himself… but for Shiro. It was too late for Keith. He was already chained so tightly that, no matter how far away he ran, he'd still be trapped. These chains, these scars, were so deeply ingrained that Keith could barely even recognize them anymore. They were a part of him. And because of that, he could never escape the ones that made them.

But Shiro… He still had a chance of escaping, of being free and returning to his home planet. He had the one thing that Keith was missing: Hope. Keith couldn't let that hope be taken away by Zarkon. Somehow Keith was going to make sure that Shiro never made it back to the Galra Empire. He was going to be free of the Galra, of Zarkon, Lotor, and Haggar... and even free of Keith.

Win or lose.


	5. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro wonders about Keith and his life. They run into a strange young man, who seems to have taken a liking to Keith.

Shiro sat in the crowded spaceport with Keith pressed up against his side, waiting for the ship to pick them up and take them to the location of the first challenge.

When he had first seen the crowds, more than ten thousand people packed into one port, he was sure Keith would have started having a panic attack. He hated being touched, even by Shiro, his only friend. He thought for sure that all of these people pressed up against him would be too much for him to handle.

He was sort of glad when he didn't freak out. Keith could be a real handful when he got overwhelmed, yelling at anything and everyone and sometimes even punching and kicking those around him, including Shiro. When he got like that, there was nothing really that you could do, except be there for him. Shiro didn't mind really. He loved the kid too much to hold it against him. It wasn't even his fault he acted the way he did. But... Shiro wished he could do something more for him.

But right now, he didn't have to. Keith was sleeping, his head on Shiro's shoulder, and hadn't made a single peep. When it was time to move to the next area, Shiro would shake him awake and he'd cling to Shiro until he fell back to sleep.

It was convenient, yet he couldn't stop a nagging feeling in his gut that said something was wrong. Keith had never acted this way before...

He looked down at Keith's sleeping face, his heart aching for him. The way he had looked before when Shiro had lightly touched his shoulder... he looked so scared, looking at Shiro like he was a monster... It was enough to break Shiro's heart.

Shiro still had nightmares about the arena and the druids doing tests on him. He couldn't even look at Haggar without having a flashback. And Shiro's one year in hell was nothing in comparison to seventeen years of what Keith went through. Yet Keith faced his abusers every day, living in the same house as those monsters. Shiro couldn't imagine what Keith went through every moment he was there...

Hitting your own child... Shiro could never know the depth of evil it must take to do something like that.

And what Lotor did went beyond what Shiro knew of the Galra or evil. He knew it wasn't normal for the Galra from the way the castle staff reacted to it. They felt like they could talk freely in front of Shiro because he was a mere "arena rat", so he heard more than most. And no one would admit it, but everyone knew what was going on, whispering about it when they thought no one was listening. They saw Lotor take Keith from his bed at night and return him at dawn. They were just as disgusted as Shiro by what was going on. Yet, they still did nothing, acting like it wasn't even happening.

If Shiro could do anything about it without getting Keith in even more trouble, he would. He imagined barging into Lotor's room and grabbing him by the neck, watching as the life drained from his eyes... But such a death would be too merciful for him. No, if he was going to kill him, it had to be in the most painful way possible... He just wished he had power like the druids to inflict unimaginable pain. Yet, he didn't think that even that would be sufficient enough for him... What Lotor did was too sick and demented to do to anyone, especially a kid like Keith.

Shiro could weep for him just thinking about it. His fingernails dug into his palms. He had to take a moment to calm himself, relaxing his tense muscles and forcing himself to focus on something else. If he didn't, he would get lost in thinking of ways to make Lotor and Zarkon both pay for what they've done...

Keith stirred, opening his eyes for a moment as he looked up at Shiro. He saw a sliver of the red eye contacts he was wearing and Shiro couldn't help but shiver. Back home on earth, red eyes usually were used in Television shows as a mark of a monster or demon or something. It was a little creepy.

He wasn't even really sure if he should be sleeping in those contacts. Shiro wasn't too familiar with them, but he was pretty sure it was dangerous to leave them in too long. He would have to make sure that Keith took them out as soon as no one else was around.

Keith repositioned himself and went back to sleep, using the person on the other side of him as a pillow.

Shiro immediately moved to stop him, apologizing to the other participant profusely.

"No, it's okay," the young man said. He blushed a deep red as he moved his shoulder to be a better pillow. "I-I don't mind, really… he looks peaceful."

Shiro was taken aback. They weren't just strangers, they were competitors, enemies, and he was letting him sleep on his shoulder? Shiro had to smile at this stranger's kindness. It was definitely a rarity in the Galra Empire.

He looked at the young man. A boy really, probably around Keith's age. He was handsome, with dark skin, white hair and pointed ears. He looked much like a type of elf in those fantasy movies back on earth. He was staring with dark blue eyes at Keith's sleeping face, blushing all the while.

Shiro tried to hide a smile. He couldn't blame the stranger. Keith was very handsome. Cute even, by Earth's standards, with his purple fur covering his face and body and large fluffy ears. He reminded Shiro of a cat, or of the main character in an old anime Shiro had watched as a kid: Inuyasha. "Thank you. Kindness seems few and far between at present, Prince…" Shiro gestured for the stranger to finish.

"Lance. Just Lance. You don't have to call me Prince. In fact, everyone here is royalty, right? You're Prince…?"

Shiro smiled again. He was polite yet not prideful and seemed friendly and talkative. He was the exact opposite of Keith. "Just Shiro, thank you," he told him. He took an immediate liking to this boy.

"And, um… his name is?" Lance licked his lips and blushed again.

At that moment Keith stirred, opening his eyes and looking up at Lance. He mumbled something that Shiro couldn't hear, then laid his head back down and fell asleep.

Lance's eyes widened at the sudden words.

Shiro felt panic start to rise. "Wh-what did he say?" he asked.

He looked back at Shiro questioningly. "He said his name was… Prince Keith…"

Shiro cursed himself quietly. They were supposed to be extremely careful. Everyone knew Keith's name and had seen his face just yesterday on the space TV. And now Keith, half asleep, just told this stranger his real name?

Shiro forced out a laugh. "Well, that's not his real name, you see…" He thought furiously of what to say. "Keith is just a nickname. He's had it forever and everyone calls him that back on his home planet. His real name is…" He tried hard to remember the fake name Keith had been assigned by Lotor in the forged documents. "Fan…ler. Prince Fanler." Shiro watched the stranger's reaction closely, praying that he believed the outright lie. Shiro had never been very good at this. His mother always told him that even a perfect stranger could read him like a book.

Lance's face smoothed and he laughed, clearly relieved. "Whew! I was worried for a second that I had THE Prince Keith of the Galra Empire asleep on my shoulder!"

A few people around them glanced in their direction at the mention of the name, whispering to each other. It didn't seem like Lance knew how to be quiet.

Panic shot through Shiro at the undue attention. But Shiro laughed along with him, hoping it didn't sound forced. He raised his voice for everyone around them to hear. "Yeah, he does kind of look Galra, doesn't he? But why would THAT Prince Keith want to be in this tournament, anyway, right? That would be ridiculous!"

The tension in the crowd around them seemed to lessen and one by one they turned back to their own business. As Shiro was watching, he caught the gaze of a large, gray skinned, scarred man that reminded him of a rhino. He stared at Keith, studying his face suspiciously. But then he looked away. Shiro sighed inwardly.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Heh," Lance shook his head. Then he looked back down at Keith's sleeping face. He mumbled, "He does really look like him, though, doesn't he?"

Shiro didn't say anything. He tried to look as innocent as possible. He hoped it worked.

"Group 147, now boarding," a voice said over the intercoms. It was then repeated into different languages, none of which Shiro even recognized.

Shiro laughed a little nervously. "Well, that's us." He gathered their things, then shook Keith gently, waking him up. He mumbled something, then stood up, swaying. Shiro put a hand around him to steady him.

"Is… is he going to be okay?" Lance asked, looking worried.

"I'm not sure," Shiro said, immediately telling the truth without thinking. He mentally hit himself on the forehead. He's making them look like weaklings, easy to pick off. "I mean…" he raised his voice for everyone around him to hear, "he's just conserving energy for the battle ahead!" His lie sounded weak in his own ears.

"Okay, well I hope you both make it. But I'm letting you know," one of Lance's eyebrows raised and he smirked in a cocky manner, "I'm going to beat you both no matter what."

Shiro couldn't help but smile. He loved Keith and wanted the best for him. And he could tell that this boy had a good heart. He didn't think he'd mind it if Lance was the one to marry Keith. In fact... he thought that Lance would be very good for him. "Same to you, Lance," Shiro told him, then started guiding the unsteady Keith through the crowds to the gate.

Crowds lined up to board the ship and each person was being patted down by the guards. Shiro had expected something like this and had told Keith to leave his weapons behind. He now realized that he should have made sure. Keith had a bad habit of sneaking weapons everywhere he went.

He looked over at the guards ahead, letting people through a few at a time. He saw as a man come forward out of the crowd and caught the guards' attention. Shiro recognize him as the large, gray skinned man that had been staring at them. He told the guard something, then turned and pointed right at Shiro and Keith.

Oh, no.


	6. Water

Keith was back with Lotor.

He was in his bedroom with the pulsating music and dim red lights. He shivered as he realized that he wasn't wearing any clothes. Where were his clothes? He ran to the door, slamming his hand against the button on the wall multiple times, frantic. He just wanted to leave, to escape. Quickly, before Lotor came back! But the door wouldn't open no matter how many times he pushed it or threw his body at the door. He turned back, looking for another way out, but it was too dark to see where he was going. He ended up running aimlessly in the dark.

Then he felt Lotor's hands slither around his bare waist and chest, pulling him back towards the bed. He struggled, but it was no use… Lotor was too strong for him. He couldn't run, couldn't hide! The walls started to close in around him and the room started to fill up with red water. He struggled to breathe as it washed over him, but Lotor was holding him down, drowning him. He pulled him under the water, pressing his body up against Keith tightly. He felt his legs wrap around him, felt his hands caress his naked body... He was going to die here, drowning in an inescapable room, forever gripped by Lotor…

Lotor started to shake Keith's shoulder. He pressed his lips to his ears, his breath hot on Keith's skin. "Keith. Wake up, Keith!" Lotor's melodious voice whispered.

Panic flew through him as he jerked away from Lotor, gasping for breath in the water filled room. He started to crawl away from him as he felt Lotor's hands on his legs, his hips, his chest, his arms... He cried out for someone, anyone, please, help him!

"Keith, shhh!" Lotor was whispering. "Keith, it's okay, it's me!"

"No! Please, let me go! Please, I'll do anything you want, anything! Just stop, please, just-"

Keith looked around for the first time, like the lights were suddenly turned on. Lotor's hands became phantom sensations on Keith, Lotor's face changing before his eyes into... "Shiro?" he asked, his voice small.

They were sitting under a thickly leaved umbrella tree in what looked like the middle of a marsh. There was water everywhere and a thick mist lay over the land. Shiro was posed over Keith, reaching for him. His hands were raised above his body, but didn't touch him. "Keith, are you… are you back?"

Oh no… He had been screaming and struggling with Shiro as he tried to wake Keith from his nightmare.

Keith's fear transformed into anger, into red hot fury. "Of course I am, you idiot," Keith snapped, swiping Shiro's hands away from him. He sat up and leaned against the thick trunk of the tree, breathing hard as his heart beat fast in his chest. It had felt so… so real. He could still feel Lotor's hands on him, red water filling his lungs as he...

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make the images and sensations just go away.

"Are you okay, Keith?" Shiro looked at him, worried.

Keith snarled. "Stop asking! I'm fine. Leave me the fuck alone," Keith commanded.

"Keith, it's okay now, just... just calm down..." Shiro moved to sit beside him, sympathetic.

"That's PRINCE Keith, rat! Mind your place," he snapped.

Shiro backed away from Keith, his eyebrows knit together in a mix of pain and worry. "Yes, My Lord. Please forgive my arrogance and any dishonor I've caused you..." Shiro lowered his head in servility.

Keith nodded, satisfied with his response.

Shiro stayed silent as he started placing some things into a small bag. It was awhile before he spoke again. "We really need to be going as soon as you're ready, My Lord. We are on a tight schedule and we haven't made it far since we began."

Keith's head was pounding and he still felt bruised all over, muscles stiff and body sore. He was exhausted, feeling like he hadn't even slept at all. His face still stung from Zarkon's blow, but as he felt of it, he noticed that it was now bandaged properly. When had that happened? And... when did they get there to this... strange place?

Keith shook his head, looking around at the marshlands around them. The only planet he'd been on had been the big desert one he had escaped to for the duration of two hours. His whole life had been spent inside a small area within the castle. This was so... different from anything he had ever seen before. He looked into the distance and he swore he could see the curve of the planet beneath them beyond the mist...

He moved closer to Shiro, but didn't touch him. He didn't want anyone touching him. Yet, he seemed the only familiar thing here. Being close to him was a comfort. He didn't remember coming there. He didn't remember getting dressed in these odd looking clothes. He felt so lost.

"Shiro," Keith called, getting his servant's attention.

"Yes, My Lord?"

"Tell me where we are and how we got here," he commanded him.

"You mean… you don't remember?" Shiro asked, eyes wide.

"Did I ask for you to question me?" Keith snapped at him. "Just... tell me how we got here, starting... starting from our conversation about... Lotor, in my room. Tell me everything."

Shiro looked shocked, then started telling him everything that had happened. He told of how they had left the Galra mothership in a stolen escape pod and how they used the documents and disguises Lotor gave them to enter into the tournament. Then they waited over eight hours in a spaceport, waiting for them to take them here, to this planet, for the first challenge. Shiro had hesitated on that part, like he was deciding whether to tell Keith something or not.

Keith concentrated on every word, trying to remember anything at all. He didn't. The last thing he remembered clearly was... going to Lotor to ask him for help. Even the next morning when Shiro questioned him about it was... hazy.

"You've been asleep most of the time, which is probably why you don't remember much. I even carried you onto the ship they used to take us here. I woke you up about an hour ago to make you take out those red contacts. I don't think you should wear them when you're sleeping... My Lord," Shiro finished.

"What's the challenge?" Keith asked.

"It's to run around this planet in twenty-four hours. They said it was about 160 miles around. We walked about a half of a mile before you said that you wanted to rest, then I carried you about a mile and a half. It's been a little more than an hour since we got here..." Shiro sighed. "I tried to wake you up earlier, but you wouldn't even open your eyes so..."

Keith's heart started racing when he realized what he was saying. "Shiro, we need to go. Right NOW!" He stood too quickly and the ground swirled beneath him.

Shiro placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "Keith, I can keep carrying you if you-"

Keith jerked his shoulder away, snarling. "I can walk! If I can't complete even the first challenge on my own, then I deserve whatever Father has planned for me."

"Keith, you know that's not-"

"Just start running! We need to make up for lost time," Keith yelled at him, then took off running into the wetlands. Shiro followed behind him. The only sound he could hear around them was their breathing and the squelching of their boots in the watery earth. He couldn't even hear the sounds of wildlife, bugs and birds, that he knew they should probably be hearing. He had never been anywhere so quiet. Even the castle had a constant low hum of air running through vents and quintessence flowing through the walls for power.

This task was made to test the contestants endurance. It seemed that if you ran a solid nine minute mile, you'd arrive at the destination at the time limit. Except, if you ran that mile 160 times, those nine minutes would slowly get longer and longer. And Keith and Shiro were already so behind!

"Let's speed up," Keith told Shiro, who was running behind him.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? You-"

"Just do it!" And they ran faster.

In theory, they could still make it if they pushed themselves, took no breaks and didn't even stop to drink water.

Reality had a different plan for them.

Keith pushed himself beyond what he knew he could bear. He forced himself to ignore the sore muscles, splitting headache, and the painful stabbing sensation in his side whenever he breathed.

But the planet they ran on wasn't the flat running track Keith had trained on back at the castle. The ground was thick with mud that stuck to your boots as you ran, making it that much harder to move. And the thick, muggy mist made it feel like trying to breathe in a hot sauna. They ran for three hours straight and only cleared about eight miles according to Shiro's estimation. They were falling even more behind schedule.

"Shiro, water," Keith wheezed and held out his hand to Shiro for the large canteen of water that had been provided for the challenge. They were given one for each of them and they had already gone through the first.

"It's empty," Shiro told him, gasping for breath in the thick mist.

Keith's numb legs suddenly gave out on him, making him stumble in the thick mud. He fell to his knees.

"We have… to keep… going," Keith gasped, but didn't move to stand back up.

"Keith… I don't know… if we can… make it…" Shiro leaned over, hands on knees.

"We... have to." If they were disqualified and taken back to the Galra Empire, Zarkon would most definitely hand over Shiro to Haggar just to punish Keith for disobeying him. He couldn't let that happen. Not to his only friend. "Let's just… keep going…" Keith struggled to stand, then felt his knees buckle under him and he slammed back to the ground, his face in the mud.

"We just… need some water…" Keith coughed. He cupped his hands and reached for the water pooled all around him. It was slightly brown from the dirt and smelled like rotten meat, but it was something. His mouth was so dry. He had to keep going… for Shiro.

"Keith, don't drink that! We don't know what's in it! It could kill you!"

Keith didn't care. At least it was better than losing, than being taken back to Zarkon, defeated... How many bones would he break when Keith was returned this time?

Shiro rushed over and had to pull Keith away to stop him.

"I'll… I'll carry you until you feel well enough to walk yourself," Shiro said, pulling Keith onto his shoulder.

Shiro struggled to even take a single step, their combined weight making him sink deeper into the mud.

"No, Shiro. I need to do this myself," Keith said weakly. He tried to get down, but he didn't have the strength to struggle. He heard his Father's voice in his head, yelling at him. He was an embarrassment, pathetic and useless. It would be better if he had never been born.

He knew now what he had meant by that. Before this, it had just been painful words yelled at him. But now they made sense. Without Keith, Shiro would have a better life. He wouldn't have to carry him, take care of him and worry about him constantly. And Keith was horrible to him, yelling at him and calling him rat. Keith scorned him and hit him. And Shiro took it without complaining.

If he had never been born, his Father wouldn't have a horrible son like Keith, who deserved punishment all the time. And Lotor wouldn't have to take care of his little brother anymore. He was a burden on them both, making their lives the way they were, making them do the things they did. It was Keith's fault Zarkon had to beat him. Keith deserved it. It was Keith's fault Lotor took him at night. Keith was asking for it. It was Keith's fault they were both monsters. Which meant that Keith was the true monster.

Keith was a terrible person and didn't deserve a friend like Shiro… He didn't deserve such a great Father and Brother like Zarkon and Lotor... It would be better if Keith had never been born.

He wasn't sure how long Shiro carried him. Keith must have dozed off a couple of times. He just felt himself hit the ground, his head falling into the water.

It took him a moment to register what was happening. He opened his eyes and saw nothing but darkness. He tried, but couldn't breathe. No...No! This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening! He couldn't breathe! He struggled to reach the surface, but something large was pinning him to the ground. He held his breath for as long as he could. But he had to breathe! He opened his mouth and pulled in the water, feeling as it hit his lungs painfully. It wracked his chest, burning. He tried to cough it up again, but ended up breathing in more water. This was just like his dream, just like all those times Father had tried to drown him, shoving his head under the water again and again and again... He was going to die here, trapped, never escaping...

He was useless. An embarrassment. He was pathetic. He was a monster and didn't even deserve to live.

His vision started to fade. He closed his eyes. It was okay if he died... Things would be better that way. Shiro wouldn't have anything left to keep him from leaving, from returning to his home planet. He could be free if Keith just died... His Father and Brother wouldn't have anyone turning them into monsters anymore... He just felt so tired... He gave up on trying to breathe... He just wanted to sleep...


	7. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After almost drowning, Keith meets the one who saved him.

Keith awoke to a painful feeling like someone was jumping on his chest over and over again. It hurt, like when Father kicked him. Then, a warm sensation on his mouth as air painfully filled his lungs.

He tried to gasp, but ended up turning to his side, coughing. Water poured out of his mouth as his lungs felt like they were being torn from his chest. After all of the water was gone, his chest ablaze in pain, he retched and heaved, emptying his stomach. He just laid there, trying his best to breathe.

"Are you alright?" Someone said, above him.

He looked up at the person holding him in their arms. He had a slender face, white hair and pointed ears. "Brother?" Why was he here? How could he be? And why was he holding him? No!

Fear struck him as he tried to get away from Lotor. He couldn't let him take him back! He was going to take him to the castle and turn him back in to Zarkon! No, he couldn't go back. He had to escape, had to run away!

"Hey, it's okay, bud," he said, as the arms held him more tightly. "You're okay now, just rest." It didn't sound like Lotor's voice, but it must be some kind of trick!

"No! Let me go," Keith pleaded. His chest hurt with every word and the movement threatened to make him retch again. But he struggled to get away weakly, pushing his hands off of him.

"Just let go, Lance, it's okay."

Keith heard Shiro's voice nearby. "Shiro, help me!" He called to him. Shiro would help him!

The hands around him let go and he crawled away as quickly as he could. He sat a few feet away and hugged his knees, trembling. His heart beat too fast as he gasped for enough air and his head and coat were cold from the water.

"I'm sorry if I-" the strange voice said.

"No, it's okay, Lance," Shiro's said softly. Keith felt Shiro sitting close, but he didn't touch him. "Thank you for… saving him."

"Oh, no, it's... it's no trouble."

Lance? So it wasn't Lotor? Keith was wrong, then. Of course he was, why would Lotor be here? It was silly, now that he thought about it. And Shiro said thank you for.. saving him? Keith realized that this stranger had been the one to rescue him from drowning. Why would anyone do something like that? It didn't make any sense... But if Shiro was calm, then he must be okay. He was still a stranger though and couldn't be trusted.

"Shiro," Keith whispered uncertainly. A whisper was all he could manage. He coughed, his whole body thrashing as pain jolted through his lungs. He would have to try to talk as little as possible. "Who... who is he?"

Keith glanced over at the stranger suspiciously. He didn't recognize him. He had short white hair, pointed ears and golden brown skin. He was... sort of pretty. His eyes had a strange quality to them, unlike anything Keith had ever seen before. They were dark blue with a light gleam of pink in the centers. He was kind of beautiful... almost as beautiful as Lotor. Almost.

"That's right, you don't..."Shiro grimaced. He looked pale, like he was in pain. He held one arm to his side. Was he hurt? He looked exhausted.

"The name's Lance," the strange voice said, suddenly pitching his voice low. His smile was slanted and he raised one eyebrow, his eyes intensely staring at Keith. Why was he looking at him like that? He must have overheard Keith and was angry at him for talking about him. That must be why he was looking at him so fiercely. How dare he- "We met yesterday, at the spaceport when you fell asleep on my shoulder." He said it accusingly, like it should have been obvious. Yes, he was definitely very angry with Keith.

Keith shot a questioningly look at Shiro and he nodded his head slightly in response. So what this stranger said was true...

Keith became defensive. How dare he treat him with such disrespect? He talked as loudly as he could manage, his voice hoarse and his chest shooting with pain. "I don't remember. Must've not been very memorable."

"Keith!" Shiro scolded.

The stranger looked taken aback, his mouth hanging open. Then he put his hands on his hips and scoffed loudly, his chin high. "Yeah, well… at least I don't need someone I don't even remember to come rescue me from a puddle," he retorted.

Keith growled and tried to stand to face this… "Lance" idiot. But as he rose, his knees buckled underneath him, forcing him back to the ground. He glared up at the tall boy. "Yeah, well I didn't ask to be saved by you!" he growled at him.

"HA! I didn't see anyone else volunteering!"

Keith snarled, trying hard to push himself to his feet to confront this… this-

"STOP IT!" Shiro roared.

They both stopped and stared at him. Lance's mouth hung open, but Keith didn't look so stupidly shocked by the outburst, obviously. He closed his mouth quickly.

"You two sound like a bickering old married couple and I've had ENOUGH!"

Keith crossed his arms. "Like I'd ever marry HIM," he mumbled.

Keith glanced up and saw Shiro watching him, his eyes piercing. He looked angry. And disappointed. Keith looked down and didn't say anything.

"Good. Now, Lance, please apologize," he asked.

Lance looked completely taken aback. Princes weren't normally used to being yelled at by anyone. Much less, someone telling them to apologize for some terrible wrong they'd done, like yell at their superior. "What! Why do I have to apologize to HIM? He was the one who-"

"Lance," Shiro said. Keith didn't even have to look up to know that he was giving him the same look that Keith just received.

Lance sighed. "I'm… sorry."

Keith tried to hide a victorious smile. Lance had to apologize to him. Well, he should, with the way he was insulting him, treating him as an equal. If they were back at the castle, Keith would have him-

"Now, Keith, apologize to Lance."

Keith twisted to face him, furious. How dare he suggest that he apologize to a mere subject like HIM! Did he forget who Keith WAS?

"Keith," Shiro said warningly. "He apologized to you."

Keith remembered when he had apologized to a servant once. He must have been no more than seven when he stumbled and spilled a glass all over a poor serving girls dress. 'I'm so sorry!' He had exclaimed without a thought.

Zarkon had heard him. He grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into another room where he taught Keith how to personally deal with anyone beneath him. 'Never apologize!' He screamed, punching Keith in the face. 'Never admit fault!' He yelled, kicking him until he fell to the ground. 'Never show weakness!' He roared, stomping his boot down on his head again and again and again... Keith fell unconscious soon after, his only relief from the pain.

He got the message. Father was telling him that Keith was so beneath him that he deserved to be stepped on. This was how Keith should treat everyone else too.

Father left him lying on the floor for days until Keith finally regained enough strength to crawl to the infirmary himself. The servants rushed past him in the hallways, refusing to even look at him, much less help him. He didn't want their help anyway! He even saw the girl he had spilled his drink on. He still remembered the panic and fear when she saw him. He reached for her to help him, but she jerked away, leaving him to fend for himself. He still hated them for that, all of them. But especially her.

That was the last time he had ever apologized. Not even to Shiro, who he considered as close to his equal as anyone. He was like a brother. Yet there was still a voice under the surface of his thoughts that whispered to him constantly when he talked to Shiro... 'He's just an arena rat... He's beneath you... He's nothing more than a servant, a disposable slave... Never show weakness to him... To anyone...' That voice sounded a lot like Father's...

No, he couldn't apologize. If Father ever found out somehow... "No." He crossed his arms and glared. He couldn't quite look at Shiro, but he glared in his general direction. He didn't think he could stand to see the look of disappointment in his eyes...

Lance scoffed. "Oh, wow. Real mature, mullet-head. I'd like to formally retract my apology," Lance said, crossing his arms and glaring in return. Mullet-head? What did that even mean? "Keith is a stupid nickname, by the way. I hope you're not the one that marries the Prince. I mean, seriously! Keith and Keith? That would have to be the absolute worse ship name possible... Me, on the other hand, if I won the tournament, our ship name would be SO COOL! Leith or Klance. Either way, it's awesome."

Keith had absolutely no idea what this maniac was talking about. Mullet-head, nicknames, ships? He shook his head. He could barely decipher any of it. Perhaps on his planet there was a tradition in which the married couple had a ship named after them... It was the only conclusion that made any sense.

"And, Shiro. Didn't he used to have red eyes?" Lance asked.

"What? I've never-" Keith started. Then he remembered. Oh no, he'd completely forgotten about his disguise.

"Oh, you didn't know?" Shiro laughed, clearly nervous. "People from, uh, Keith's species have changing eye colors… When he's, um… upset or anything, they're yellow. But when he's relaxed, they're red!" Shiro laughed again, scratching the back of his head.

Keith didn't think he'd ever seen a worse liar. He was experienced in dealing with Lotor, and he could barely ever tell whether he was lying or not. He made Shiro look like a child in comparison.

But Keith just nodded his head and grunted in agreement.

"Oh!" Lance looked surprised and looked at Keith more closely. Keith looked away, feeling his face heat up. In anger, of course! "My species has something similar, but that only happens if you come down with Zavlar's love sickness. After kissing someone you love for the first time, your ears turn bright red every time you see them!"

Keith stayed silent. It seemed like most of the time all that came out of this stranger's mouth was utter nonsense. He rubbed his temples as he felt his head pound.

They sat in awkward silence. Keith avoided both of their gazes and tried his best to dry off.

Finally, Shiro broke the silence. "Keith," he said, wincing. "I'm... It's all my fault. I'm so sorry..." Keith caught his eyes and saw them fill up with tears. He had deep bags under bloodshot eyes, his face was dirty and pale. Keith hadn't noticed how tired he looked before... How long has it been since he's slept?

"Wha-?" Was all Keith could manage before another coughing fit. His lungs felt like they were on fire from all the talking he'd done.

"It's my fault... I-I passed out while carrying you... I could've- I almost killed you!"

It took a moment for Keith to realize what he was talking about. But then he remembered the large mass pinning him to the ground, his head underwater... keeping him from coming up for air... He pushed down a feeling of panic that was beginning to rise and forced his mind on something else.

Shiro must have been exhausted from carrying Keith countless miles across the marsh to have passed out like that... He fell on top of him, Keith's head falling into the water... What could he say? He didn't feel angry at Shiro, he just felt...

Keith was such an idiot! He was the one that was supposed to be strong and take care of his servant, not the other way around! He made Shiro carry him on his back, not even bothering to realize how exhausted he must be. Keith had been sleeping almost non-stop, and he couldn't even remember the last time Shiro had slept!

"It's my fault..." Shiro continued, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm so sorry, Keith. We're going to lose because of me..." Shiro's voice cracked as he turned away from him. Keith had never seen him look so... broken.

Yet it was Keith's own fault.

It was his fault they were in this mess. He felt so... sorry. The guilt tore at his battered heart. He was sorry for leaving, for disobeying his Father... If he had just done as he was told, then things wouldn't be like this... If he hadn't of snuck out of the castle to go to the arena, then he never would have roped Shiro into this mess... If he hadn't of rushed into the throne room before thinking... If he hadn't of gone to see Lotor, asking him for help... If he hadn't of fallen asleep, forcing Shiro to watch over him... If, if, if... And now there was no way they could possibly make it to the finish line in time.

It was his fault that Shiro would be taken away and handed over to the druids, screaming... They would torture him, taking away everything that was himself, his arms, his legs, his mind... They would throw him into the arena again and again, forcing him to fight and kill... A living hell.

And Keith would be... all alone again. No one would talk to him... His tutors' were all scared of him, the servants terrified... Shiro was... all he had. He was all that kept him from just giving up after Father left him bloody and broken... He was the one that worried about him when Lotor took him and the one who comforted him after... Without him, Keith was...

Nothing.

Keith felt numb, like he was looking through someone else's eyes. He didn't care what happened to him, to any of them. He just wanted everything to be over. He wanted to fall asleep, never dreaming and never waking…

"Ahem…"

Keith looked up slowly at the sound. Who was interrupting?

Oh, just the so-called "Lance".

"Actually… um, you aren't too late."

What did he say? Keith couldn't quite comprehend it's meaning...

"What? Lance, what do you mean?" Shiro asked, his voice hoarse.

"I mean… look at the ground, just there. I probably should have mentioned it earlier, I just thought you guys already knew…"

Keith looked up and saw what the boy was pointing at. The ground was… moving. He felt a spark in his chest, an excitement that broke through the numbness.

He understood now. While walking, it had seemed like they had been going nowhere, like the ground was working against them, the mist keeping them from seeing any landmarks. They had been approaching the challenge as a test of endurance, when it had been an observation test the whole time!

Keith stood, ignoring the shooting pains all throughout his body and chest, choking down a rising cough. "Shiro," he said. "We can… still make it!"

"Yeah," Lance said. "That's what I've been trying-"

"Shut up," Keith replied, still looking at the moving ground. "Those are what I think they are, right?"

"Only if you think they're Gartaken Meteorite Water cre-"

"Animals!" Keith interrupted. "We can ride those!"

"THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYI-"

"Come on, Shiro! I'm not sure how much time we have left!"

Shiro laughed, a pure, warm sound. "Yes, of course. And, Keith…" Keith looked over at him, puzzled. He made a quick gesture to his eyes.

What? What was he trying to say? Was it his- Oh. His contacts lenses! The finish line would have tons of people and cameras there. Before arriving, he needed to put back on his contacts. Good job, Shiro!

Keith turned his back on Lance as he was preparing the Gar... thaken- whatevers. He glimpsed the gigantic moss covered creatures as Lance drew them slowly out of the water, using some of the fresh water in his canteen as a lure. He seemed pretty smart… for an idiot.

Keith pulled the small white case from his pack on his hip, opening it to reveal the large red circles inside. As soon as he saw them, Lotor's face flashed in front of his eyes. He struggled for a moment, fear paralyzing him. He needed to run away, escape! He was going to die if he didn't, he was going to die!

He struggled to shove it down, but finally did. The contacts had just reminded him of Lotor… That was all.

Looking back at Lance quickly, he blinked the lenses into place, then turned back to them… Everything looked… so red. Just like…

Like Lotor's room.

Keith's headache eased. The pain in his chest lessened and he felt like everything… was going to be okay. Maybe even better than okay.

"Hey, Shiro?" he heard himself say. When had he opened his mouth? He wasn't quite sure. "I'd really like to go back home, I think… I miss Brother. Can we just… give up on the tournament?"

Keith wasn't really sure he knew what the words meant, he just knew that they were right. He closed his eyes… He was just so tired. He fell into something like sleep…


	8. Protect

You almost killed him… You almost killed him. You almost killed him!

Shiro's breathing quickened, his heart pounding as that single thought threatened to overwhelm his mind. The room around him, the crowds talking and snoring all faded... even Keith curled up on the floor beside him seemed to melt away, replaced by images of the arena. He knew this feeling all too well and tried to force it away. No, he couldn't, not now! He had to stay awake. Keith was sleeping, he had to... he had to protect him! If he had a flashback now...

Shiro almost killed him!

He looked down and saw the tattered, blood splattered clothes he was wearing and heard the crowd cheering all around him. He tuned them out: They were nothing more than distractions. His senses sharpened as he searched for his quarry, his target. He only had one goal: kill. The quicker the fight was over, the sooner he could sleep. When was the last time he had slept? He couldn't remember. It felt like months, years…

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted movement. He spun, his right arm slicing through the air behind him. Nothing. He misjudged their position? He was just so tired… all of these fights were getting to him. He could barely think straight. Only the threat of his very life was keeping him from falling to the ground.

More movement to his left! He swept his arm around, expecting to hit his target in the chest. But again, nothing. He couldn't see them, couldn't follow them with his sluggish eyes… He was just so tired…

He blinked, feeling his consciousness float into darkness for a split second…

And then he hit the ground hard, someone on top of him, their hands around his throat. He had made a mistake, a fatal mistake! He gasped for breath and struggled, trying to kick them off. Shooting pain coursed through his side. They must have stabbed him! His vision started to go dark as he looked up into his enemy's eyes...

They were glowing bright yellow. Galra! His opponent was Galra! He hated them, all of them! The Galra were the reason for all of these deaths, the reason for his captivity, for his arm, for everything! Rage and instincts took over as his arm began to glow purple, surging with power.

Then he felt warmth flow over his arm and chest. It was nice, like a warm blanket he could sleep under... But then he remembered where he was. Blood. Warm blood was the warmth that covered him.

Horrified, he pulled his arm free from his opponent's chest cavity and watched as they fell to the ground beside him. He had killed… again. How many times has it been? Seven hundred? Eight? He couldn't remember... Too many to count...

He choked down a sob as the crowds cheered, a roaring so loud he couldn't hear anything else. They were cheering… for him. It was the most sickening sound he'd ever heard.

He just wanted it all to be over… He wanted to be safe, and warm… He wanted to sleep for days and wake up to his mother kissing his forehead, whispering that it was time to go to school…

What did she look like again? He couldn't even remember his own mother's face...

In a daze he turned the still warm body over onto it's back. After every fight he made himself look at his opponent's face. The other prisoner's called him crazy for it, said he was worse than bloodthirsty and liked to know who he killed for the fun of it…

He wasn't quite sure why he did it himself. Maybe it was to make sure they were never forgotten, each one of their faces scorched onto his mind like a brand. He could never forget them, even if he wanted, their faces haunting him, seeing them everytime he closed his eyes... Or maybe it was because he wanted to punish himself, to make himself feel the guilt like a wound that he was never going to let heal. He deserved it, for everything he'd done...

Seeing their faces was torture, sometimes so much so he wished he could let himself be killed in this arena... But he knew that that was too much to hope for. The instincts, ingrained in him through his arm by the Galra, would never let him lose. And so, because he had to keep killing, he would keep making himself feel that guilt. If he didn't... or rather, when he didn't... that would be the moment he became a true monster.

And so, he forced himself to look down at the dead Galra's yellow eyes. They stared blankly at the ceiling, the purple fur around them soaked in blood…

No, it can't be! It didn't make any sense! It was… Keith!

He heard someone screaming over the cheers of the crowd. A howling sound that shook with loud, ugly sobs. That single sound was filled with so much sorrow that it almost matched the agony that Shiro felt.

He killed him... He murdered him... He had killed so many times... But why did he have to kill him?

He mostly only killed people he didn't know, whose faces meant nothing to him. Some were those he had seen as other prisoners, talked to them, known their names... But this was different. He loved Keith more than anything. He had saved him from his life filled with death and torture and agony… All he ever wanted was to protect him, to take care of him, to make his life better in any way possible...

He repaid him with a gaping hole in his chest!

He was only lying to himself, thinking that he could protect anyone... That he could protect Keith… He was a monster! A murderer! And nothing could ever change that...

He squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming down his dirty, blood splattered face. In the darkness he saw the hundreds of dead he had killed with his own hands. One of them stepped forward, a man with a strong jaw, yellow glowing eyes in the darkness, a scar across his nose, and a tuft of white hair. He opened his mouth in a wicked, mocking smile. No, not him! It was-

You killed him!

"Shiro!" someone said, a hand on his shoulder.

Shiro's eyes shot open. He felt his arm heat up as it pulsed with energy. His instincts told him to strike now, don't hesitate. It's kill or be killed!

"Shiro, are you okay?"

Lance watched him worriedly, his hand on Shiro's shoulder. He struggled to reign in the surging power coursing through his arm. It took everything Shiro had not to strike him across the throat, ending his life right here and now...

The face echoed across his vision. See, Shiro? Your first instinct is to kill anyone and everyone around you. You're just a murderer.

Shiro shoved the voice down and rotated to put his body between Lance and his right arm. "Lance," he said, his voice thick. "What are you doing?"

They sat in a large, darkened room, people sleeping on the floor all around them. Shiro sat with his back against the wall with Keith curled up beside him. Lance sat on the other side of Keith, holding his head in his lap tenderly. Shiro shoved away a small spark of jealousy at the sight.

"Well," Lance whispered, looking distrustfully at the sleeping figures all around them. "You seemed like you were having a nightmare. I was going to let you sleep, but you were sort of... drawing attention."

Shiro spotted more than a few glares from amongst the crowd. He forced an apologetic smile and they started to turn away one by one, most going back to sleep.

"Thank you, Lance. I must have fallen asleep…" He moved to sit up, but stopped as pain shot through him. He grimaced and held his side. When Shiro had fallen unconscious and almost drowned Keith, he had kicked and struggled so hard that Shiro had felt one of his ribs crack... Shiro had deserved it, but he didn't want Keith to know. He would just be angry and blame himself, when Shiro was the only one to blame. But Shiro still felt more than a sliver of guilt for keeping so many things from Keith...

You're weak, Shiro… You can't protect him. You can't even keep yourself awake!

"Are you okay?" Lance asked, watching as Shiro clutched his side in pain. "You're hurt! You need to lie down, Shiro! Here, I'll keep watch a while longer and you can-"

Poor, poor Shiro. Needing the help of boy? How pathetic!

"No!"

Shiro tried his best to ignore the voice, but it kept buzzing in his ear. Just calm down and breathe. Patience, Shiro. "No, I'm fine. Thank you, Lance... again. Without you we'd both be…" Something rose in his throat and he couldn't finish his sentence. Keith would be...

After they made it across the finish line with only a few minutes to spare, they announced the numbers of the competition: 23,438 people had been disqualified, shipped to the Galra empire as slaves, never able to see their family ever again, entering into a life of hardship and toil. Most would go to the work-camps, some of the more able going to the arena. The more beautiful would be used as playthings for the rich. Among the more lucky is the 5,794 people that died during the challenge, their bodies now rotting among the swamps, their families and entire planets left to mourn over them... This left 14,193 people to move on to the next challenge. Without Lance, Keith would have been among the rotting...

Shiro looked down at Keith lying between them, his head pillowed on Lance's lap. He saw Lance blushing a deep red in the dark. Shiro had to smile at the scene, if a little sadly. Keith had never done anything like that with Shiro, and Keith trusted him more than anyone. He was breathing steadily and hadn't stirred, sleeping more peacefully than Shiro had ever seen him sleep. How could that be?

Back at the castle, Shiro had been summoned to Keith's chambers during the small hours many times, sometimes every night for weeks at a time. He would find Keith trembling and sobbing under his covers, begging Shiro to stay with him, sounding so small and vulnerable. Shiro didn't really do anything, he just sat on the edge of his bed and talked to him soothingly until he calmed down enough to fall back to sleep. Knowing that Shiro was right beside him, protecting him, was a comfort to Keith. But even still, Keith tossed and turned more than Shiro himself. The worst of it was when he thrashed and screamed his lungs out in his sleep. Shiro would try his best to wake him or comfort him, just to let him know that he was there for him… But nothing ever worked. He wanted to make it stop, the way Keith made the killing stop when he got Shiro out of the arena…

You almost killed him, Shiro...

Keith's dead face flashed in front of his eyes, yellow gaze staring blankly, blood oozing from the side of his mouth… the stench of metal wafting from the blood covering Shiro...

He pushed the images away. No! That wasn't real. It was just a dream! He doesn't have any control over Shiro any more!

Don't fool yourself, Shiro. Of course I still have control. It's you who is powerless...

"Shiro?" Lance's voice broke the laughter that was filling Shiro's mind.

He was grateful for his interrupting. It was too hard for Shiro to break away by himself sometimes... "Yes, Lance? What is it?"

"It's, um..." He lowered his voice and leaned closer to Shiro. "It's Keith. As soon as his eyes turned red, his entire personality changed! It's like he's become a completely different person..." He gazed down at Keith with a look that was both radiant and crestfallen.

Shiro thought he understood. One moment Keith was yelling and arguing, the next he was... sleeping with his head on Lance's lap. He wasn't sure he had an answer. Why was Keith changing so drastically? He even told Shiro that he was thinking about dropping out of the tournament... Keith would never just give up, especially when it was as important as this tournament. It was like he was... under some kind of hypnotism.

Haggar? Shiro had seen her do something similar with the other prisoners, convincing them to fight when they showed reluctance or to kill their opponent when they showed remorse... But she always had to be in the room with the one she was using her magic on for it to work.

Keith mumbled something in his sleep and blinked his eyes open, revealing a sliver of red. Then he nuzzled back down onto Lance's lap, making a sound that sounded much like a purr. Lance blushed even harder. Keith was adorable, like a napping cat, but those red lenses really were kind of creepy...

The lenses!

Shiro was so stupid for not seeing it sooner! He must really be exhausted... It was as soon as Keith put them on before leaving the Galra castle that he became extremely sleepy and complacent. And then again when he put them on before they finished the race, he started talking about quitting. Of course! They must be some kind of trigger. He wasn't sure how Haggar's magic worked, but maybe she put some kind of spell on the contact lenses, making Keith into... well, into a thoughtless slave.

It was the only thing that made any sense. Although Lotor had been the one to give Keith the lenses, Shiro didn't know of anyone except Haggar and her druids that were able to use mind magic. But if Lotor knew about her ability to do this...

Shiro shivered. If Lotor was using this trance when he took Keith... Shiro didn't want to think about it. In this state, Keith would do just about anything you ask without complaint. Imagining how Lotor would take advantage was... horrifying, to say the least.

Yet, what would Shiro do now that he had this information? What could he do? Throwing the lenses away would be tantamount to turning themselves in. Without them, Keith was just Prince Keith with different clothes and some fake earrings. And what good would it do to tell Keith? It would just make him even more angry and unwilling to put them back on.

No. The lenses would stay his secret, for now. Shiro really wished that he was better at lying...

"Shiro?" Lance asked.

"Yes? Oh, um..." Shiro had forgotten he was supposed to be answering Lance's question. "It must just be the stresses of the competition getting to him. He's usually a lot more..." What was a nice way to describe Keith? "Moderate?"

Maybe Shiro was pretty good at lying after all.

Lance looked like he was going to ask another question, but at that moment the lights flickered on. Then the ship shook and rumbled, waking everyone immediately. The crowd collectively moaned as someone started talking over the speakers. "We have arrived to the planet Rebulas. Gather outside for the reading of this challenge's rules, by the decree of Emperor Zarkon!"

"Aw, come on!" Lance whined. "I was planning on getting some beauty sleep!"

Shiro smiled and shook his head. He had offered to stay awake and make sure nothing happened while Shiro slept, and now he complained? He seemed like a good kid, but Shiro found him rather hard to understand.

"Keith." Shiro shook Keith's shoulder gently, not wanting to startle him awake. Usually he wouldn't touch him at all, fearing it would cause a panic attack. But everything was flipped on it's head with Keith in this trance... "Keith! Get up, it's time to go now."

Lance made a disappointed noise as Keith opened his eyes and sat up. His ears twitched and he yawned widely, showing his sharp teeth. "Brother?"

"Brother? No, Keith, I'm not your brother, I'm your-" Shiro stopped short. He had almost said that he was his manservant, which was his official position. "It's me, Shiro," he amended, glancing at Lance. He was methodically straightening his clothes and hair, stealing looks at Keith shyly. Shiro lowered his voice so that Lance wouldn't overhear. "Can you stand up, Keith? We need to leave." He needed Keith out of those lenses as soon as possible.

Keith's eyes began to close again. "Nuh uh," he said, sliding back to the ground.

"No, no, no, no!" Shiro grabbed ahold of his arm and held him up. He was so obedient before! Shiro tried again. "Keith! Get up," he commanded.

No response.

"Fine then." Shiro knew he hated it, but he scooped him up in his arms. His side screamed in protest, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it as best he could. Keith's feet dangled over his left arm while his Galra tech arm supported most of his weight. His head lay on Shiro's chest, his ears tickling his neck and chin. Shiro couldn't help but smirk. If Keith were aware of the situation right now, he would be in a rage.

Lance stared at them in awe and Shiro was sure he spotted more than a modicum of jealousy in that look.

Shiro struggled for a moment, his legs stiff and sore from inactivity. But as he took a couple of steps, it became easier to move. What had made Keith suddenly so disobedient? As soon as he thought he had it all figured out, a new problem arose.

The cargo door at the back of the ship opened and the crowd started to flow towards the natural light streaming from outside. Shiro followed, Lance beside him. The closer they got to the door, the stronger the scent of nature became. It smelled like clean air, wet dirt, and the muskiness of wildlife. Shiro hadn't smelled anything like it in what seemed like years.

They stepped outside of the ship. About fifteen cargo ships were in the large field, the crowd gathering in the middle. Enormous trees stood like skyscrapers around them, the trunks as thick as a house and the leaves as big as boats. The underbrush was thick and vines hung everywhere. The sounds of wildlife replaced the constant hum of engines that Shiro was so used to by now.

The planet was breathtaking. Literally. The air was so clean and pure that it made Shiro gasp. It was in stark contrast with the swampy, foggy air they had back on the last planet. Even the air in the castle, with the best air purifiers in the universe, was dry and stale in comparison. This planet's clean atmosphere was almost... like Earth's.

"Attention, remaining contestants!" A loud voice commanded, getting the attention of the large crowd filling in around them, gawking every which way. Shiro couldn't see who was talking, but it sounded like a woman, the voice peppy and light. Cameras floated around in the air, beeping and buzzing like gigantic bugs.

"My name's Vydren! Congratulations on making it to the second challenge!" The crowd erupted in cheers, Lance himself let out a shrill whistle and pumped his fist enthusiastically. "This next challenge will require you to hunt a beast called the Morlka'an! They are natives of this planet and extremely deadly!" She put so much spunk into her words that it didn't sound all that deadly. But then a holographic image shot up over the crowd of a six legged, hulking grey creature with large, knife-like teeth.

"But there's also some sad news," she said poutingly. "There's only an average of eight thousand of them left! That means that not everyone will get to move on to the next challenge... So sorry! But good luck, everyone! Oh, and I almost forgot!" She giggled bubbly. "We won't be providing weapons! I hope that's okay! Now, as soon as the Emperor says the word, bring back one of those beasties back as fast as you can! Got it?"

The crowd cheered again. Shiro didn't know much about it, but she was good at this.

Zarkon appeared in the place of the Morlka'an, his head floating over the crowd. His voice echoed across the trees, making some bird-like creatures fly from their roosts at the loud noise. "Begin!"

The crowd began moving all at once. More than a few people shoved against Shiro as they moved past him, making him lose his balance. He tried his best to keep from falling, but holding Keith in his arms made his balance hard to maintain.

"Shiro!" Lance called from afar.

Shiro spun to the sound of his voice. He looked just in time to see Lance be swallowed by the rushing crowd.

Shiro felt someone grab his shoulder and push him, hard. Already so unbalanced, it was all he needed for encouragement to make him fall forward.

It's inevitable, Shiro. You're going to end up killing him like everyone else. You have too much blood on your hands...

No! Shiro had to protect him! Shiro moved his body over Keith's and braced his arms against the ground. Bodies rushed over him, feet kicking and stepping. He concentrated on Keith's sleeping face beneath him and waited for it to be over. All he had to do was wait for it to end, then-

Shiro saw a heavy boot out of the corner of his eye, then felt pain pour through his head.

Then, darkness.


	9. Pup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get sad very fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I haven’t updated in so long, it’s been what, a full year or something? Man. Anyway, since it’s been so long, I won’t make you go back and reread everything that has already happened. Instead, you can read this little summary of pretty much everything (important) that has happened so far.
> 
> Zarkon put out a call to every prince and princess in the Galran Empire to come and participate in a tournament. The winner gets Keith’s hand in marriage and their home planet goes free. Keith vows that he won’t be a pawn to his father, Zarkon, anymore and wants to enter the tournament and win his own hand in marriage. So he gets help from his brother, Lotor, and is reminded of just how awful he is when he wakes up the next morning with bruises all over his body and no memory of the night before. But Lotor gets Keith a disguise so that he can enter the tournament without anyone recognizing him. Keith and Shiro enter the tournament and Shiro starts noticing Keith exhibiting odd behavior. Every time he puts on the red contacts, a part of the disguise, he becomes lethargic and weak-willed. During the first test of the tournament, Keith and Shiro have a short amount of time to run an impossible length in a swamp. Keith, still weak from the effects of the contacts, needs to be carried by Shiro, who faints from exhaustion and Keith nearly drowns, while Shiro broke some ribs. Thankfully, a young hero is there to rescue them with an ex Machina in tow. Lance, also in disguise to make sure no one knows there are living Alteans, helps Keith and Shiro get to the finish line with no time to spare. He is very curious about the beautiful Keith, who is definitely NOT the Galra Prince Keith. A lot of people die in the first test, but thankfully none of our beloved characters. Not yet, at least. Keith, Shiro, and Lance all move on to the second test together with an unspoken vow to help each other out. But as soon as the first test begins, Lance is separated and someone kicks Shiro in the head so hard that he falls unconscious. This is where we begin again.

Shiro awoke with a throbbing ache in his temple. He knew that he was still in the wooded forest of the second challenge’s world by the earthy smell, like wet dirt and tree bark. The trees filtered the light so much that it was almost completely dark, only small amounts of light making it’s way to the bottom of the tall, leaf-filled trees. Vines stretched everywhere and the sounds of wildlife in the trees, bugs buzzing and birds singing in a cacophonous grumble.   
He tried to move, but he felt something wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms to his side. He groaned, his side burning with pain. How… how had he gotten here again? And why was he tied up? And…  
Keith! Where’s Keith?  
Shiro’s eyes shot opened and he twisted to look around him. He searched frantically for Keith in the wide forest around him, then spotted him with a deep sigh of relief. He was tied up like Shiro to a thick tree no more than ten feet away. His head sagged and his body was limp, but Shiro saw the slight rise and fall of his chest beneath the thick vines around him. Thank God!   
But they were still in trouble. Someone had tied them up for reasons unknown to Shiro. Surely they hadn’t found out Keith’s identity? No, no way. Keith’s disguise was in no way elaborate, yet most people dismissed the idea of seeing someone famous in real life. You’re more likely to dismiss them as mere look-alikes. No, that couldn’t be it.  
Then what?  
Shiro felt his arm start to surge with energy as it started to emit a purple glow. He twisted frantically in the tight binds to see his arm, his Galra arm, with it’s inner panel exposed. Thin, wire-like roots ran from it to the other side of the tree, pulsing as his arm’s energy grew in intensity. It’s never activated without him before, but he tried to maneuver it to cut the vines binding him. But as he tried, he realized that his arm was positioned in such a way that if he moved his arm to cut the vines, he would also cut open his own leg too. His arm was growing hot and Shiro’s finger’s felt like they were on fire.  
Shiro gritted his teeth, grunting as his arm’s energy grew beyond anything he had felt before. He had been pushed in the arena to his furthest limits, but this was… this was…  
Shiro couldn’t think anymore as he found himself screaming from the pure energy surging through his arm, his nerve endings burning in pure pain.  
And just like that, it was over.  
“Huh,” mumbled a voice close by. “So that’s what the safety restrictions are for…”  
Shiro gasped as he tried to catch his breath. The world looked like it was underwater, his head swimming in his exhaustion, like he had just walked out of a full days’ worth of fighting in the arena. “What… what did you do to me?”  
“Hmm?” the same voice asked. “Oh, that. Sorry, I was fiddling with the craziness that is this programming. The safety coding actually numbs the pain center in your brain when your arm is activated to keep you from feeling the intensity of the energy in your arm! The way they’ve interwoven this technology with your biology is ingenious. I always thought that Galra technology was rather simple, but this? This is a work of art! It’s almost like the ancient technology that was developed over ten thousand years ago!”  
Shiro couldn’t seem to understand what they were saying. His arm and pain center in his brain? Shiro had to try very hard to push down a flashback. But this time, it wasn’t about the arena. No, it was much worse. He was strapped to a table, Haggar and her druids looking down at him as they took his arm, experimenting on him…  
No, he couldn’t, not now! He needed to be here for Keith, to get them out of this situation. He wished that the Keith he knew was here, the capable, strong-willed Keith that would pull out a weapon and fight tooth and nail. But he was nothing like that Keith in this state. No, right now it was Shiro’s job to fight tooth and nail for him.  
“Who are you?” Shiro asked, danger in his voice.  
“Me?” they asked, chuckling. “I don’t think that’s really important right now. The real question is, who are YOU? You have Galra technology so advanced that you couldn’t possibly be a part of the working class planets. You must be some kind of… of spy for the Galra. What did they offer you? Your freedom if you KILL enough people?” The last sentence was spat at him in thinly veiled rage.  
Well, when Shiro thought about it, he kind of was a spy for the Galra. But that definitely wasn’t what he was going to tell them. “No, I’m not working for the Galra. I…” He hesitated, then decided that the truth was the best course of action in this situation. “I used to be a combatant in the arena.” He paused, then realized this person might not know about the arena. He started to explain, “The Galra arena is where they make slaves fight for the entertainment of-“  
“You used to be in the arena?” They said hastily, suddenly appearing from around the tree. They grabbed Shiro’s shoulders, asking him urgently, like it was life and death.  
Shiro was shocked at seeing his captor so suddenly. They were small, nearly half Shiro’s size, with a young face like a young teenager’s. At first glance, the kid looked like a young boy, with an almond shaped head that came to a point at the top. The boy’s large brown eyes, a little too close to Shiro, were alight with amazement. “Y-yes. That’s how I got this arm. They give weapons to anyone who-“  
“Yes, of course, it all makes sense!” he exclaimed, then leaned in even closer, looking at Shiro intensely. “Have you seen anyone in the arena that looks like me? But he is a little taller and was probably cowering and peeing his pants?”  
It took Shiro a moment to process what the boy was saying. Shiro shook his head, in answer or to clear his thoughts, he wasn’t sure. “I’m sorry, I don’t…” His memory of his time in the arena was still very fuzzy. He usually got glimpses in the form of flashbacks, reality mixing with memories, but could never recall pure memories. And he didn’t want to.  
He saw the boy’s face twist slightly, his mouth pulling into something like a snarl. The grip on both of Shiro’s shoulders tightened. “Are you sure?” he insisted.  
Shiro tried pulling away, but the vines still held fast. His instincts started to rise as a pressure in the back of his mind, his muscles tightening. He felt too much like a cornered animal and was afraid of what he might do if he was pushed further. He tried to keep his voice steady as he stared at the ground. “I don’t… remember. I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t remember? You have to remember! Try harder,” the boy demanded, shaking him a little.  
Shiro stiffened, staying stock still. He felt his arm heating up to defend him. He knew that if he moved or spoke, his instincts would take over and all that would be left was what Haggar put in him.  
The kid in front of him saw his arm start to glow and seemed to realize that he had pushed Shiro too far. The boy stepped back, his eyes fiery, and his voice hard. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just find out myself.”  
Shiro breathed a sigh of relief as the boy stepped back around the tree and out of harm’s way. He didn’t know what he would have done if the boy had kept pushing him. He might have killed him. He couldn’t have a kid’s blood on his hands. Not more than he already did.  
“Okay… I just have to access the mainframe where the memories are stored and…” Shiro heard the boy mumble from around the tree.   
Shiro jerked, realizing what he had just heard. “Accessing… my memories? Wait, what… what are you doing?” he asked in disbelief.   
“You told me you couldn’t remember,” the boy said, matter-of-factly. “Well, people can forget. But computers never do.”  
Shiro’s heart began to race. He looked down at his arm in what could be called betrayal. It was recording and storing his memories? How could that be possible? Which memories did it have? And what would this boy see when he accessed them?   
“No! You can’t do that,” Shiro pleaded, breathing hard.   
“Why not? Afraid of what I’ll see?”   
He was afraid. He was terrified. What if this person that this kid is looking for is dead? Or worse, what if Shiro had killed him in the arena? But he couldn’t tell the boy that, he would just think that Shiro was trying to hide something. So he stayed silent, struggling against the vines around him furiously, in a panic. He had to get out of here before they saw anything!  
“Ah ha! I’m in! Now let’s see…” It was a minute before they said anything else. “Ah, I found it. Here!”  
Shiro gasped as he felt a sudden falling sensation, then he was there, in the dark corridor leading out onto the arena.  
Shiro was exhausted from his last three fights that day, with only small rests in between each. His bones felt like lead and his head throbbed. But he was about to go fight the champion, the strongest warrior, right after the guy in front of him.  
With an almond shaped head and large, terrified brown eyes, the kid cowered back from the guard who grabbed at him, catching the front of his shirt. “Get out there, slave!” the guard yelled at him, throwing him to the ground. But the kid only stood back up and backed away. He looked so scared. He reminded Shiro of himself the first time he had been forced to fight. Except this kid was so scrawny he looked completely incapable of defending himself, especially against the champion.   
Shiro had seen so many die. People who he had shared food with. People who he knew, who he had fought with and bled with. He had seen so many die already and it had been… a couple of weeks? Months? He just knew that he couldn’t bear seeing this kid die in front of him when he could have done something about it.  
Shiro gathered all of his remaining strength and let out a battle yell, lunging at the kid in front of him. “Kill! I wanna kill!” Shiro yelled, knocking him to the ground. Even saying those words made Shiro feel sick to his stomach. He came face to face with him, the kid’s eyes wide in terror. He made sure to hit his leg, just enough for him to be unable to fight. He stood and threw the kid into the remaining prisoners waiting to fight, then turned and lunged at the prisoner guard. He disarmed him, taking the weapon and running up the stairs into the fighting ground without hesitating.  
If he was going to die, he might as well help somebody in the process. They couldn’t take everything from him. They couldn’t take his humanity away. Never.  
Shiro stepped out into the arena, the familiar feel of sand crunching beneath his feet and the smell of blood as the roar of cheers filled his head. Adrenaline surged through his body, his heart thundering in his chest. He raised his weapon as a ball of energy was flung at him by the champion and he had to jump out of the way before it crashed into him, killing him. He could die any second now. He could die. He would die, leaving everything behind him…  
He jerked against the vines violently, retching.  
“YOU HURT HIM!” someone was screaming.   
Shiro shook his head dazedly, trying to clear his head and deny it. But he did hurt him, didn’t he?  
“YOU WERE TRYING TO KILL HIM!”  
No, no, no! That wasn’t right. He… he wanted to save him. He wanted to do one good thing before he died. He was going to die…  
“You’re a MONSTER!” they screamed. The boy in front of him, his fists pounding against Shiro’s chest, and Kuro both screamed this at him. Kuro started laughing, a sickening sound.   
Surely… they couldn’t both be wrong? If everyone told him that he was a monster, it would only make sense for it to be true, right?  
“You don’t remember, huh? Let’s see what you remember.” He heard the boy move back around the tree.  
“No!” Shiro coughed, his voice rough. “Please, don’t-“  
Shiro felt a falling sensation, like he had just been pushed from a very tall cliff.  
And Shiro was back in the arena, his shirt torn, his ribs cracked, and his left leg bleeding. His arm was limp at his side, where he refused to raise it in defense or offense in fear of hurting his attacker. He knew that if he did, Kuro would take over. He couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not to her.  
Her name was Plonim. She was seven foot tall with red velvety skin and a bear-like physique, big and barrel chested, with huge arms that would knock you down in one hit. But she had a kind voice and warm eyes, and the sunniest smile. She also had three kids that she talked about every night in detail. Shiro saw his mother in Plonim. He vowed he wouldn’t, couldn’t get attached to any of the other prisoners, because he might have to kill them. But Plonim…  
While everyone else only thought of themselves, she noticed that Shiro hadn’t been eating. What was the point in eating, they were just going to die tomorrow. She saw that he was falling into a depression, so from then on, she always spent her meals with Shiro, talking with him about home and making sure he ate. To keep up his strength, she would say. Don’t be selfish by starving to death and leaving her there all alone without anyone to care for. Shiro was her Pup, she would say. And her Pup was going to grow up big and strong, she boasted while they both laughed.   
God, he missed his mom. And he supposed she missed her kids just as much. And so, they had become something of a family. He became her Pup and she had become his Mama.  
So when he stepped out onto the field and saw her walking across the sand, he knew he couldn’t raise a hand against her. He didn’t care if he died. Living while having killed her would be worse than death.  
“Shiro!” she yelled, as she delivered another heavy blow. She struck Shiro on the shoulder, knocking him down as all the air went out of his lungs. She was holding back. “Don’t you dare go easy on me!” She grabbed both his legs and tossed him, sending him spinning through the air across the field. He landed with a huff, but she had just given him plenty of time to get up to run or attack. She was being kind to him.  
Shiro stood, but didn’t run or attack her.  
“Fight me!” she screamed, walking toward him. “Attack me, skrux!”  
Shiro could only look her in the eyes and shake his head in determination before she knocked him down again.  
“Do it! ATTACK ME!” she roared, kicking him this time. He only rolled once, showing him again just how much she was holding back. “KILL ME!” she bellowed, standing over him. Shiro saw her eyes tear up as they locked eyes. “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t be selfish… Don’t be selfish, Pup.”  
Shiro ground his teeth, trying to force the sobs from rising in his chest. “Don’t make me do this… please.”  
“One of us must.”  
Shiro was thrown again, this time much further than before. He landed hard and took a second to get up again. One of us must. If Shiro didn’t kill her… then he was making her kill Shiro, her son, her Pup. Oh God…  
Shiro stood up, feeling weaker now than he had at the end of all of the fights he fought put together. He felt more defeated than any time he had been knocked down or nearly killed. Tears trailed down his face as he watched his adopted Mother walk towards him, a slight smile on her face. She opened her arms wide, like she did when they both needed some affection and she wrapped him into a big hug, holding him until the next fight came.   
Sobbing, Shiro raised both arms, hugging his Mama one last time. Then he drove his arm through her abdomen.  
He laid her gently on the sand, holding her face with his human hand. “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry…” he cried.  
“You did good, my Pup… You are stronger… than I am…” Blood sprayed from her mouth as she struggled to speak. “I love…” Her eyes glazed over as she breathed out for the last time, blood pouring out of her mouth.  
The crowd cheered, drowning out the sound of Shiro’s wailing.  
Shiro was sobbing loudly, heaving against the vines holding him to the tree. “Please, don’t…” he sobbed. “Don’t make me…”  
“What’s his problem?” a new voice said.  
“Umm, I was just testing some of the programs,” the boy said quickly.  
Shiro tried to get his breathing under control, but it just came out as panicked gasps. Out of all the memories he now had to be plagued with, why this one? Why couldn’t he have picked one where it was a random stranger who he had killed? Why Plonim? Why…  
“Well, stop messing around,” said the new voice again, deep and gruff. “We just need the arm, the rest of this… mess… can be discarded.”  
“Actually, we can’t do that due to the biometrically encrypted coding within the arm. If we wanted to just take the arm, we would have to rewrite by hand the biometric encryption of someone else’s DNA so that they could then-“  
“I didn’t ask HOW to do it! Just DO IT!”   
“But I’m trying to explain to you that there’s a better way to-“  
“I don’t care, brat! Just get it done!”  
The young boy sighed loudly. “Whatever you say…”  
Somebody walked out from behind Shiro’s tree and leaned down to get in Shiro’s face. Shiro recognized him. He was… that guy that tried to turn Shiro and Keith in. He was big and grey and angular, like a living rock. He leaned in close. Thankfully Shiro had gotten his emotions under control after that… whatever that was. Flashback? Reliving his memories? Even so, his chest still felt like it had been ripped open and his heart had been slowly squeezed until it popped.  
“Not so brave now, eh, slave?” he said.  
What? What was he talking about?  
He must have seen the look of puzzlement on Shiro’s face because he threw his head back and laughed. “That’s right. You thought I didn’t recognize you, but I did. Just because some Galra high officer bought you off me doesn’t mean you can forget that you originally belonged to Halok. You were the best. Now only your arm is of use to me.” Halok began to laugh loudly again, then turned and went to Keith’s tree to inspect him.  
Shiro watched Halok very, very closely, making sure he didn’t hurt Keith. So when the boy grabbed Shiro’s shoulder from behind, he jumped.  
“It’s okay,” the boy said. “I’m going to help you escape.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you liked it! I'm going to try to actually start posting regularly, maybe once every two weeks? Because I do really like this fic and want to finish it, I just get really overwhelmed with school and then don't have enough time. But I have everything all planned out, I just need to actually write it. Anyway, please leave me a comment letting me know your thoughts, good or bad. Bad, mean comments are better than no comments! I cried while writing about Plonim so I hope you did too! Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
